Dreamcast III: Home Is Where The Heart Is
by leahhlee
Summary: Hard PG13. Rivers is thrown into Middle Earth in a freak car accident. Somewhere between killing orcs, riding fell beasts, and snogging elves, she realizes it's more than just a dream and living hell . . . because there is no going back!
1. Arrivals

Chapter 1: Arrivals

Her head turned to the left, rotated back to the right, her hand whipping around to brace herself on the saddle. Sure enough, she was lost, split from her party, even with a ranger and an elf accompanying her. The odds were impossible, not that Middle Earth played on odds anyway.

Her horse, a strong, black Vladimir Heavy Draft called Ragnorok, had let his swift, trot lure her into a daze. That stall was all he needed to bend his head and lure the nearby plants into his mouth.

She had panicked and took off in a random direction, hoping to rejoin the party without too much embarrassment. She had, in turn, ripped her habit, hit a tree, and lost a few of her saddlebags. Sighing, she turned to her horse. "Ragnorok, do you know where they are?"

His ears went up, pivoting to locate something. She felt his body ripple with a sniff. Cautiously, he moved to the base of a giant tree...and began to feast on the neighboring ivy.

Again. She sighed, and so did the tree.

Wait...

"What the-"

The tree erupted in a flurry of shakes, angrily trying to shoo Ragnorok away. The horse took a lick, a look, and then took to his feet.

As he barreled through the underbrush, Rivers ducked and pressed herself against the length of Ragnorok's back. She heard somewhere in the crackle of timber a voice, but it was dull and faded. Her steed vaulted over something, a squealed when he landed in hoof deep water.

Rivers untangled the brambles from her hair and took the reins, maneuvering her horse around the hunks of Isengard. She could hear the aged voice of Treebeard, thundering his welcome to Gandalf.

She dismounted to let him around a particularly large chunk, and didn't bother remounting for the depth of the water, which now bogged around her knees. Ragnorok parted the water easily, so she let herself lag behind.

When Aragorn caught sight of her, both he and Legolas turned to the back of their line, and rounded with fearful faces on her. She smiled, helping her horse step over some rubble. "It's okay, I made it...shit!"

Her foot fell on an irregularly shaped object beneath the water, and she tumbled. Ragnorok lunged forward and then rested again as Rivers released the reins.

Legolas would have laughed had she not extracted a fiery sphere from the depths of Isengard. Gandalf and Treebeard gasped. "Bless my branches..."

"Lady Brind'Amour, give that here."

She stole a glance at Pippin, whose mouth stopped chewing to gaze upon the palantír before it disappeared behind the folds of Gandalf's cloak. The wizard nodded at her, and turned for the forest. "I trust Saruman will stay under you're control, Treebeard? We make our leave, thank you for your time."

The Ent nodded and settled against the tower, closing his eyes. After they were out of earshot, Gandalf rounded on the hobbits.

"Shire-folk! Worth just about as far as you can throw them!"

Gimli flexed slightly and was elbowed by Legolas. Rivers chuckled.

"Meriadoc, climb up with Aragorn; Peregrin, with Lady Brind'Amour. I'll have no reports of your 'talents' until we arrive at Edoras. Silence plagues you lips."

The hobbits nodded, and Legolas couldn't help noticing how big Pippin's grin was as he scrambled up on Ragnorok. Rivers allowed him to hug her from behind, but shifted uncomfortably when he rubbed his head against her back. She spurred her steed after Gandalf, Hasufeld and Aragorn shying to let her pass.

The progress through the forest was slow, and she could feel Pippin making rude gestures with Merry, a few horses behind. Legolas pulled up next to Ragnorok, making Rivers smile. Her riding boots were killing her, not to mention she was worn to the last shred of energy. Legolas looked at her for a moment, and then let his eyes flow to the trail. "You are silent."

"No i brestanneth anírach tírad vi amar." Be the change you want to see in the world, Sindarin

He chuckled, and Aragorn skipped him in line. Rivers turned to face the elf, and smiled deeply. Pippin made a rude noise and caused Ragnorok to dangerous swish his tail. The Vladimir Heavy Draft picked up his pace and reclaimed his place in line.

break (Yo, peeps: won't let me do long chains of stars to signify breaks.......so you get little break's instead. Sorry!)

After the blessing of the cup, a huge repast followed. Roast pig, wine, ale, berries, chocolate and caramel truffle, stuffed boar, and quail eggs, a fine delicacy, were all seen in the mouths of many. The feast degraded into drinking and singing, setting a positive tone for the rest of the night.

A messy clatter rose from a central table, where two especially drunk hobbits frolicked upon it, beer in hand.

"Oh you can search far and wide,  
You can drink the whole town dry,  
But you'll never find a beer so brown,   
As the one we drink in our hometown.  
You can keep your fancy ales,  
You can drink them by the flagon,  
But the only brew for the brave and true,  
Comes from the Green Dragon!"

They smacked feet, kicked mugs, and with a final slam of the cups, chugged the ale to the amusement of the crowd. As Pippin fell laughing from the table, Merry spluttered, "We need a victory song!"

Rivers silently agreed, racking her brains for decent song. None really seemed for the moment, but she had a few ideas-

Wait.

She opened her mouth and began to sing. The first few words were lost in the screams of the crowd, but as she came around to the second part of the first verse, she began to sing louder as people took notice.

"Grandpappy told my pappy, back in my day, son,  
A man had to answer for the wicked that he done,  
Take all the rope in Texas,  
Find a tall oak tree, round up all of them bad boys,  
Hang them high in the street for all the people to see!"

Merry filled a mug and handed it to her. She sprang to the table, continuing into the chorus as the crowd back her with a furious rhythm.

"Justice is one thing you should always find,

You gotta saddle up your boys,

You gotta draw a hard line.

When the gun smoke settles,

We'll sing a victory tune,

And we'll all meet back at the local saloon."

She caught Legolas and Aragorn staring at her. Gandalf had begun to bob his head with the clapping, and Eowyn was laughing and jumping like a few others. The men refilled their mugs and plunged them into the air, following Rivers.

"And we'll raise up our glasses against evil forces,

Singin', whiskey for my men, and beer for my horses!"

She threw head back, and took all of her drink in. The cheering was phenomenal. The tavern began the chorus again and let the king finish it out. They drank to it one last time, and then the party was over.


	2. Unraveling

Chapter 2: Unraveling

Rivers wore a thin night rail to evade the heat of slumber, but unfortunately, it was light enough to render her susceptible to the night chill. The straps had eased off her shoulders and her traditional red cloak had sunk to her elbows. Legolas had turned the corner of the guard tower and wondered if that was Lady Brind'Amour standing there or not.

She didn't notice him, milky eyes turned to the sunset. She was beautiful; he did not deny it. Though some elven women surpassed her in abilities, her overall splendour and unique spark intrigued him. He knew she thought of him, thinking about his composure, and wondered if he had made a decent impression.

"My Lady of Hastings," he said, bowing.

With a rustle of her satin cloak, she recognized his presence with a bright smile, casting about for his formal title. The result was a nervous, choppy response. "My Prince...Legolas...of Mirkwood. Yeah."

He chuckled, drawing his own smile out. Blushing, she mumbled, "Sorry. In my thoughts, you are...Legolas. Just Legolas."

He was in her thoughts! "You may call me Legolas, without my title."

She smiled. "Legolas, then. Welcome to the balcony. Care to do some Astrology?" She stifled a laugh, amusing herself.

He walked toward her, watching her features sharpen. They were plagued with fatigue, smitten with the labours of day. He placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need your strength. Please, retire. The hours are dwindling."

Her eyes fell to the floor. Without warning, she flung her arms about him and squeezed him tightly. "Legolas..."

He returned her embrace, not bothering to search for a reason why. It felt good to hold her, to know that she was safe, unharmed by Sauron's hand. "My Lady."

She pulled away, smiling. She curtsied and swept off down the stairs.

As soon as she reached the bottom and came into the sleeping chamber, she beheld herself, arms hugging her sides. That felt wonderful; he was solid iron, softening to her touch. She knew she had fallen in love with him, and she had known for a while. How long did it take for her to admit it? She repeated the words in her head, but held them from escaping into the air.

'I love you, Legolas!'

She chuckled to herself. What would Kyler say?

"Lady Brind'Amour?"

Pippin lie awake in his pallet, arms crossed behind his head. He looked worried. "Are you alright? What happened?"

"Nothing. I had a me-moment. Forget about it." She crossed the room, and stopped as her feet glided past Pippin's head. "Er, Pip?"

"Yes, milady?"

"Rivers."

"River. Right."

"What can you tell me of Frodo and the Ring?"

He stared at her, seeing that she was in no mood to be denied. "Nothing, really. I just know he's off to destroy it. And Sam is with him, I think."

"Never tell any of that to anyone. There are some who would use it against you. Keep it on the DL."

"The what?"

"DL. Down low."

He mouthed a confused agreement, and turned over in his cot. She tucked herself in, keeping a half-closed eye on him.

That lasted for only so long, as her thoughts swam to the elf on the balcony. She reminisced about the four long days in Moria, the talks in Lothlórien, fighting in Edoras, being stabbed, and the hug not a minute ago. The words were ready to burst from her lips, but a scream echoed instead.

"Pippin!" Merry shouted.

Rivers kicked open the sheets, but the sight of the hobbit glued her to her pallet. Pippin writhed in his self-inflicted agony, clutching the burning sphere, unable to let go. His silent screams brought her pain, and she lunged, ripping the palantír from his hands.

There was no pain. No flame, no fire, just a sense of unawareness. She saw a massive eye, lidless, wreathed in flame. The fire dissolved her every thought, scraping her memory for any fragment of knowledge on the Ring. She felt him swimming through her thoughts, and she convulsed, attempting to shake him off, but to no avail. Calming her mind, she found in herself a will and determination, fortitude she hadn't been able to summon for a lesser cause, and she found the eternal..._feeling _she kept within her for Legolas.

The flames ceased and the scars on her palms ripped with pain. She felt the flames dwindle, and her vision returned. Legolas had kicked the ball from her grasp and as it rolled on the floor, Gandalf sprang after it with a cloak.

"Fool of a Took!" he said, running over to Pippin, who was still. He took his hand, and mumbled something. With a short breath, Pippin stirred to life. "G-G-Gandalf! I'm sorry-"

"Look at me."

Rivers was suddenly engulfed in the reassuring embrace of the Prince of Mirkwood as he dropped to his knee to confirm her status. Just low enough for her to hear, he whispered, "I saw you holding the palantír and my heart..." he paused, hugging her tighter. "You're alright?"

"Yeah." Her hands ran up his chest, permanently etching the sensation into her memory forever. Discovering what she was doing, she recoiled and stood up, cheeks flushing with the throttled blood of embarrassment. Legolas stood up too, letting a hand trail protectively around her waist, but he soon withdrew it, from his own embarrassment.

Gandalf ushered them all into the hall and explained to Théoden the events of the past few minutes. Théoden, being one to lack the necessary logic to compute such equations, asked why Rivers wasn't going as well. "She had a brush with the Dark Lord, no?"

"She told him nothing."

"As did Pippin. Who would he assume the Ring was with? An able-bodied girl or our traditional cavalry hobbit?" He was, of course, referring to Frodo.

"I would place my trust in either-"Gandalf caught himself before agreeing with the King. With a curt nod of his head, he turned to Rivers. "I would like fore you to come along with us to Minas Tirith."

She had to argue. She wouldn't see Legolas until after the battle of Pelenor fields if she went with him. "And what if I do not consent?" After a vicious look from Aragorn, she wished she had left words in her thoughts.

"Then you are at your own peril." He turned briskly, Pippin fumbling in his wake.


	3. Not So Far Away

Chapter 3: Not So Far Away

Rivers stumbled upon Aragorn and Legolas as the night grew later. Pippin and Gandalf had left, Merry was in a paralytic state of melancholy, and no one seemed to notice how much longer they had until the final hour of battle would arise.

The man and elf were suiting up for a long ride in Edoras' Hall. Théoden was absent at this point, and Eowyn had just come in from the other side of the room. She picked up a sword and slashed through the air, lunging, and finally crossed blades with Aragorn.

Rivers looked around, eyeing the many weapons laid out for the smith's to inspect. A booming voice thundered in her ear, "Want one of your own?"

"No, milord, last I took up a blade I was bled like a stuck pig." She smiled at the king of Rohan. "My place is... is to stay where it's safe." She could bring herself to tell him they had many able-bodied women who would kill more than any twelve-year old.

He chuckled. "Of all the aspects believed to be found in a girl, you are the flip-side."

"Honesty is not flipped, milord."

"Nor are principles. You are the only woman who has rose to fight in war, but yet to cannot achieve personal victories. I question **this** principle."

"I am not trained in the ways of battle. I'm quite the simpleton."

He rummaged through the piles of scythes and extracted beautiful Elvish sword about the length from her knee to the ground. Runes twined up the sides and flared out at the tip, adding a mystical, timeless effect to the length of the blade. She swallowed and took it up, holding it delicately.

"What is your best feature, milady?"

She shrugged at the randomness of the question, answering nevertheless. "My eyes."

"And what do they remind you of?"

She thought for a bit, casting her thoughts around carelessly. She immediately was reminded of Shadowfax, the swift wind rider of Gandalf Greyhame. "Shadowfax."

He smiled deeply and gripped his own sword. "Fight like Shadowfax. Fight like the endless sea of white that you will one day become. You must become him and take up the right hand of Shadowfax." He swung his sword in a high arc, and then it came slashing down. He flicked her blade up and she brought it to cross with his.

"Fight like the winds of Middle Earth."

She closed her eyes, and allowed her hands to relax, drawing the sword down. She tried to recall the feeling of flight upon a white steed's back, and with sudden sparks, her memory of the rider returned.

His mane danced; so shall her blade. She lunged, jabbed, drew back, parrying, then danced in a rhythmic motion with the steel. The tension was leaving and she dissolved, floating into ecstasy. His tail whipped; her sword cut and sliced, butchering the air around her. Several times she met cold metal, others Théoden jumped back, but sprang to recover.

She felt Shadowfax ripple, and her weapon curled around Théoden King's sword, and she shook the rider's tension away—Théoden was disarmed. He smiled. "Fight for the winds of Middle Earth."

Legolas came over, tipping his head to the King. He smiled exuberantly. "Wait until the armies of Mordor taste the sting of your blow."

She sheathed the sword and asked the King if it was hers to keep. He nodded yes, and shuffled out of the hall. Legolas put a hand on her shoulder. "From last night...you are staying with us? Why?"

"Because Sauron will not come for me. And someone's got to look after you." Her hand curled around a single lock of gold and she released it, blushing furiously.

He was smiling. "I like knowing you're okay. I couldn't imagine... if Kyler hadn't saved you in Helm's Deep..."

She seemed sad. "I depended on others to save me." She looked up, hand reaching out timidly. "This time...if I fail...Legolas, I want you to let me go. It would hurt too much if I had to watch you...fail. I don't want to see it."

Her took her hand and pressed her to his chest. "We will not fail. We will not fall. I have seen it, our fate isn't set to end here." She was crying now, hands curled around his quiver straps. He thought to himself, _I want you make you happy. I don't want to see you cry...this is where you belong, next to my heart._

He let her come away, and she wiped her eyes expertly. They still smarted from her weeping, but they didn't turn red. She found the will to smile. "Sorry. I broke down for a second. I don't want to see anyone get hurt. But they will be, for too few will come. And I've changed things...maybe we'll make it, maybe we won't."

She sighed. "I'm becoming irritable and annoying. My apologies."

"Not annoying. Maybe irritable, but the others are afflicted as well. Battle does things to you. I will not deny it. Milady, do not weep for those who have be called."

Taking a deep breath, she let the waves flow over body. The squires were calling, the people were assembling. The oath keepers rose to fulfill the bonds they swore, and the young marched forth with the aged.

Legolas turned to her. "If I loose you in that battle, I will find the strength in me to carry on. You must do so too. I will not stand to see you fall with me."

He found her hand in the green folds of her habit and laced their fingers together. She sighed once more. "And the timid go to the aid of Gondor with the strong. From castle, from wood, we rise to you, Minas Tirith!"

She squeezed his hand and stepped outside into the hazy scuttle of pre-battle organization. Legolas pulled her down the alleys of clanging chain mail, screaming wives, and nickering horses until they found Arod and Ragnorok tied up to a stake with three other horses. After detangling the ropes from the spear, she began to saddle him.

She swung on top, looking like death or a cracker. There was no confidence resonating in the walls of her mind, but she armoured up, and joined the ranks of the march for Pelenor.


	4. Final Triumph

Chapter 4: Final Triumph

"Come, recite us the tale!"

"It's not a tale, it's a poem from my time."

Rivers had a knack of ensuring the most embarrassment out of every moment put on the spot. She pleaded silently with Legolas, who ignored her and smiled slyly. She sighed. "Alright, alright. Keep your shirts on. Well, actually, if you want to take them off…Merry, it's an expression."

The hobbit tucked his shift into his trousers and laughed, smoke spewing from his mouth. Rivers cleared her throat. "I will amend it appropriately so it fits the occasion. Here I go:

'Gandalf, light shining,

Led the right flank, shouting,

'Hide, monsters, hide

From our might.'

Aragorn, armour bloody,

Led the left flank, shouting,

'Come, monsters, come

And meet our might.'"

The king of Gondor sat a bit taller, and Rivers giggled, but continued.

'Gandalf frowned,

His mouth set grim, and

A dread light was in

His eyes. His soldiers too

Were grim, and battled

As a farmer plows

A stony field, with a will,

But no delight.

Aragorn laughed, and

A glad light was in

His eyes. His soldiers

Laughed and fought

As a lad or maid begins a dance,

With a will and much delight."

She cast about, the original words to the poem seeming unfit. Then the words rushed to her mouth, and left without approval.

'From the creatures burst,

Roiling like noxious animals

A new breed of monsters.

The line assembled.'

She took up the original words and began a new stanza.

'Gandalf and his warriors

Rang out,

Aragorn and his knights

Sang out…"

She put her head down and ruffled her dress. She lost to words to the sands of time, as her memory of the poem had rusted over. She shrugged. "I'm sorry, I can't seem to recall the last lines."

Aragorn clapped and the others followed suit. "It was wonderful!"

"Would have been better to see some dwarves in it."

"Well, when I see another dwarf come to our aid, I'll write you in, Gimli."

(Note: Poem is from "The Two Princesses of Bamarre" by Gail Carson Levine. Cut to riding to…the hilltop place. With the evil mountain.)

The ride to the outer city was long and hard and Rivers' muscles had taken too much for two days of straight riding. She was ordered to wrap them in salve and sit by the fire. Legolas set up a wooden post for her to lean against and enfolded her in her red cloak.

He crouched down to her, ruffling her hair. "Is that okay? Are you comfortable?"

She nodded. "Thanks. It's fine." She coughed. "Is Ragnorok alright?"

The black horse nosed a bucket around a few feet away, and was very surprised to discover that there was something in the bucket. He prodded in with his nose and ran about with it until someone ordered him to be tied down. Legolas spoke up. "Over here, to Lady Brind'Amour."

Ragnorok was tied to the poles over her head. She smiled. "Thanks. It feels nice to have a watcher." She chuckled.

He stroked one of the salve strips laced around her calf. He kissed her forehead.

That feeling began to well up inside her, the same fullness that possessed her mind's insane worry about her devotion to him. Fluid confusion and excitement flooded her and she took a deep breath. As he began to move away, she murmured. "I think you missed."

He beheld her, knee sliding to the ground to show permanence. "I believe I did."

He moved over her, and both of their eyes closed. His free hand moved to position her dumb jaw and she shivered, sending a shudder up his arm. Her lips were quivering. He was close, so close…

Ragnorok reared out of instinct as a cold shadow pervaded the encampment. His lip brushed hers ever so quickly until-"Rivers!"

The spears came up from the ground and Ragnorok reared again. The tensions sent the spears careening about, one skewering her red cloak to the ground. The horses nearby rose up in fright of the evil darkness, and the horses along the mountainside joined in a united panic.

Legolas tossed the spear away and picked her up swiftly, dodging a whip that was lashed at the black horse nickering in fear. "Ragnorok!" Rivers screamed, refusing his touch and tumbling out of his arms. "Don't hurt him!"

Whips flew everywhere, clipping in to nurse the horses back under control. The men seemed scared too, and almost uneasy. "You don't know what you're doing!"

Ragnorok tripped and thundered to the ground, and cry of pain pulling at Rivers' heartstrings. She flailed about, stumbling to reach him, desperately trying to save him of anymore suffering. A gash was open in his heel, sporting a deeply sliced tendon. "Fools! Look at what you've done-"

Hands slid around her stomach and squeezed the breath from her lungs and one clamped over her mouth, silencing her completely. A soldier drew his sword. Rivers bit the hand hard, though not hard enough to ensure her release. The sword arced over her head… and came crashing down. Ragnorok moved no more.

She had just seen the innocent, panic-stricken life driven from the most docile creature. Ragnorok drew a choked breath, and stilled entirely. Rivers screamed against the hand and Legolas winced and the trickle of blood on his palm from her bite oozed onto the ground. He felt the life drain out of her and she fainted against him. Saline tracks of tears marched across her cheeks, followed by a starch of flushed skin.

He positioned her in his lap near the fire, and watched as the men dragged her steed to a pile of unwanted things. He had ordered her cloak tossed across the corpse and pulled her tighter against him, and smiled.


End file.
